


It's About Trust

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, S3, Trust, mentioned peter hale, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac doesn't want to be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's About Trust

“You doing okay in here?” Stiles asked Isaac as he quietly walked into the small room the young werewolf had to himself in Derek’s loft.

“Hanging in,” Isaac replied. “Have you heard from them?”

“Not in about twenty minutes,” Stiles admitted, biting his lip. Isaac let out a small distressed noise and jerked his head against the pillows behind him. “Hey, calm down.”

“I should be out there. I should be helping.”

“If you went out there you’d just be in the way,” Stiles replied, shaking his head. Isaac gave him a wounded look and Stiles immediately backtracked. “Not like that. I mean, you’re not in top fighting strength, you know? And Derek would be worried about making sure you’d be okay. So it’s better you’re here. He can handle himself.” 

Another look from Isaac, this one slightly skeptical. “Okay, he can handle himself in an adequate fashion that’s kind of iffy. But right now, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, Peter and I have his back and you’re better resting, okay?”

“Do you trust him?”

“Who, Peter?” Isaac nodded. “About as far as you can throw him.”

“Which is further than you.”

“So a little?”

“Seems like,” Stiles laughed quietly. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” He turned to leave and let Isaac rest.

“Stay?” Isaac called, drawing Stiles back. “Please? I’m- I don’t want to be alone right now. Every time I close my eyes--”

“I get it,” Stiles said quickly, not wanting a reminder of the image he can see all-too clearly in his own mind, because his imagination is sometimes _too_ good.

Stiles approached the bed and stood awkwardly beside it, not sure what to do. Over the summer when Stiles helped Isaac and Derek try to find Boyd and Erica they were never alone together. It was always Isaac, Derek and Stiles. Or, on a few rare occasions, Isaac, Scott and Stiles. Or Stiles and Derek. Or-- well.

It was never just Isaac and Stiles.

“You’re thinking too much,” Isaac broke into his train of thought.

“Yeah? S’that another werewolf power? Healing and hearing people think too loudly?” Stiles shot back sarcastically.

“You fidget when you get trapped in your head. I noticed it would happen a lot before you came up with a new idea of where to look or who to talk to,” Isaac explained, looking down at his own hands that tangled in his blanket.

“Huh. Never noticed.” Stiles immediately shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself not to pick at the lint inside or scratch at his leg.

“Anyway. You look uncomfortable. Sit,” Isaac said, moving over in the bed. He cleared a bit of mattress right by where Isaac’s head was.

Stiles shifted back and forth for a second before be perched gently on the edge of the mattress. Isaac huffed, then reached out and grabbed Stiles’ closest leg to him and dragged it up so his whole body had no choice but to swing around with it. His shoes were kicked off in the living room (was that giant cavernous space out there considered a living room? A great room? A nouveau wolf’s den?) so he couldn’t even make a fuss over leaving dirt on the bedspread.

Isaac hesitated for a moment over Stiles’ discomfort, then lay his head lightly on Stiles’ thigh. Stiles tensed, could feel his heart rate ratchet up slightly but he breathed in slowly and evened it out.

If the summer showed him anything it was that Isaac truly _didn’t_ have anyone else in his life and the people he did have around he hid how much he cared for them. Why put yourself out there to be hurt again?

“Is this okay?” Isaac asked lowly. Stiles readjusted himself on the bed so he was seated a bit more securely, then rested his hand on the top of Isaac’s head, fingers curling around strands of his hair.

“Yeah. This is okay.”


End file.
